Page 176 of Marrying the Savage

“Deeply.”

“Good. I need consistency.”

Arman’s mouth twitches. “Sofia.”

“What?”

“Be careful.”

I don’t make a joke this time. Something in his face stops me.

“I will,” I say.

I go downstairs alone, though not really alone because Rafi is twenty feet behind me, pretending he’s not following. He’s bad at pretending. Damir’s men are better at it, which is not comforting.

The club feels busier now. More people have come in. The music is louder, though still controlled. No one is drunk enough to be sloppy. No one looks poor enough to be harmless. I move through the room slowly, pretending to admire the space while actually looking for exits, staff doors, faces, weaknesses.

I don’t know anymore.

Near the bar, I order water because I may be reckless but I’m not going to get drunk in a room full of men who trade secrets for sport. The bartender serves it without asking questions.

I take the glass and turn.

That’s when a man steps into my path. He’s tall, blond, expensive-looking in the way men are when their clothes cost money but don’t make them less ugly inside. His smile is too familiar for someone I have never met.

“You’re new,” he says.

I look past him. “No.”

His smile widens. “No?”

“No, as in no conversation. You can leave now.”

He laughs like I have flirted. “I only wanted to introduce myself.”

“Tragic. You’ll have to recover privately.”

I move to step around him, but he shifts with me. Annoyance prickles at the back of my neck.

I glance toward Rafi. He’s watching, but another man has stopped him near the edge of the bar. Not obviously blocking him. Just speaking to him. Standing in his way.

My stomach tightens.

I look back at the blond man. His smile has changed.

At first, I thought he was just a creep. Now I’m not sure.

“You should not be here alone,” he says.

“I’m not alone.”

“No?” His gaze moves over my shoulder. “Looks like you are.”

I set the glass down on the bar carefully. “Move.”

“Come on. Don’t be rude.”

“I am very rude. Move.”